On one condition
by El loopy
Summary: Amy agrees to leave him alone on one condition...Set at the end of 'Flesh and stone'. Spoilers. Oneshot. 11 x Amy


**A/N: I know this scene and follow ups have been done multiple times already but I just had to do it.**

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On one condition…

So there had been Rose, well he'd kissed Rose. It had served a purpose. He guessed he _could _have drained the radiation some other way but…that way was more fun…and he had loved Rose.

Then there was Martha. Martha he really _had_ just kissed to serve a purpose. It did mean that she had some sort of human crush on him from that point but she didn't ever do anything like pin him to the side of the Tardis!

There was also Joan who he'd kissed when he was a human and River with her coy little jokes, suggesting nevertheless that _he_ kissed_ her_ in his future…but the bottom line in all these cases was that he was the Doctor, he was in control and he – kissed – them.

Then this Amy Pond, as ever completely oblivious to these unspoken rules, but then that was no surprise, just kisses him with absolutely – no – warning. Ambushed, that was the word. She ambushed him.

What was with these humans females? Well he was devilishly handsome and clever, and he didn't suppose he could blame them really for being attracted to him (maybe he gave off some sort of pheromone? He'd look into it) and at least they could control themselves, or so he had thought.

Forward Amy Pond on the other hand wasn't just kissing him while he tried to avoid her but also undressing him! She was insistent and absolutely unperturbed by anything he could say or do to put her off. His comment about being an alien didn't see to register in the slightest and his age had been brushed off with a witty and altogether cheeky rejoinder!

Actually on reflection there had been _one_ woman who had kissed him. Reinette Poisson. Hmmm…yes. There had been something very similar about the way they had both thrown themselves at him…In fact he'd met them both as children hadn't he and then met them later. Much later for them. Only a few moments for him. Maybe he should stop revisiting children he happened to help out – they seemed to develop strange fascinations and fancies for him as they grew up. Well he was brilliant of course. He could hardly blame them for comparing him with any other male they came into contact with and found them lacking, but then he was an alien, as he had firmly put it to Amy. A concept she didn't quite seem to grasp…

So why, why, why was he so very insistent that Amy did not, in fact, kiss him? He hadn't been so very bothered when Reinette had…come to think of it he had been quite delighted. One in a million was Madame de Pompadour, but different Doctor – different man. Now Amy, yes Amy, ah! She was getting married in the morning. That was significant, that was very, very significant, but why? Obviously that meant she should under no circumstances be kissing him or suggesting precisely what she was suggesting but, but, but there was another reason why it was significant, and he could under no circumstances be engaging in such trivial things as pandering to Amy's desires while he was trying – to – think.

She was still attempting to divest him of his clothes while he spun and pushed her back into the Tardis. Honestly it was getting quite exhausting grabbing her wrists and dodging her advances.

"Look," he exploded in an exasperated voice, "I am very busy and what we need to go do is very, very important for you, me and the entire universe so you need to cut – this – out."

Amy leaned against the interior wall of the Tardis in what he assumed was her provocative manner and pouted at him.

"You want me to stop?" she enquired with an almost defiant tone, the accent very strong all of a sudden.

The Doctor released a huge sigh, "Yes."

"All right then," she said moodily, annoyance flashing across her face…before that look that said she could and would have her own way slipped into her eyes. He knew he was in trouble. "On one condition." He didn't ask, just looked at her in complete disbelief for bargaining with him. "Kiss me."

"Amy," he warned.

"What?" she challenged. "Afraid you might like it?"

He couldn't be wasting time like this, he really, really couldn't. On the other hand the time it would save by just giving her what she wanted, relative to the time wasted by her continuing to ambush him or throwing and breaking things, probably made it worth it.

"Amy Pond," he couldn't help grinning, "you are impossible."

"Is that a yes?" she sounded surprised and he could see the ambush gathering again.

"It is a yes…on my terms," he said quietly, already standing in front of her. He pressed his forehead to hers like he had in the forest and remembered how terrified he was that she had to be left behind. "Amy Pond," he smiled looking into her wide eyes, "you're not going to know what's hit you." And he kissed her.

Amy Pond did not fight for control or press her advantage. She had been expecting a quick, quiet kiss that she could manipulate and maybe make the Doctor forget this whole 'just a kiss' thing. She had not been expecting such power and gentleness and heat and control and passion all at the same time. Within seconds she was completely mastered. She knew it. She didn't care. As long as the kiss never ended she would never care about anything ever again. The Doctor didn't taste of anything she knew but it was sweet and addictive and made her senses swim. He was fire and ice. He was the velvet of the night and the gathering storm. He knew when to apply pressure, when to draw back, when to be gentle or insistent. He knew her better than she knew herself…and just when she thought she couldn't stand the intensity any longer the Doctor drew back.

"Right Amy Pond," he continued as if nothing had happened despite him being slightly out of breath. He bounded away to the consoles and pulled a few levers. "Let's get you fixed."

Without his support Amy felt her legs give way and slumped against the Tardis wall.

"That was a fairly good fix Doctor," she breathed in a daze, pressing her fingers to her lips. If that were just a kiss how good was he in bed!

"Nine hundred or so years to practise," came the off-hand response. Realising that she wasn't next to him he glanced over his shoulder to see her leaning in shock against the wall. Hmmm, he should probably look into that effect as well…


End file.
